lay down your arms 70

lay down your arms 70

without delay to

think of the defence (Yes, yes, defence: never attack) of its

outraged dignity and its outraged interests, and being determined

to employ for that end all means which are offered by the position

which has been imposed upon it, regards itself from this time

forward as in a state of war with Prussia.

 

State of war! Does the man think who puts these words on paper, on the

green cloth of his writing-table, that he is plunging his pen in flames,

in tears of blood, in the poison of plague?

 

And so the storm is unchained, this time on account of a king being

sought for a vacant throne, and as the consequence of a negotiation

undertaken between two monarchs! Must Kant then be right in his first

definitive condition for everlasting peace? “The civil constitution in

every state should be republican.” To be sure, the effect of this

article would be to remove many causes of war; for history shows how

many campaigns have been undertaken for dynastic questions, and the

whole establishment of monarchical power rests assuredly on successful

conduct of war--still republics also are warlike. It is the _spirit_,

the old savage spirit which lights up hatred, lust of plunder, and

ambition of conquest in peoples, whether governed in one form or

another.

 

I recollect what an altogether peculiar humour seized me at this time,

when the Franco-German war was in preparation and then broke out. The

stormy sultriness before, the howling tempest after its declaration. The

whole population was in a fever, and who can keep himself aloof from

such an epidemic? Naturally, according to old custom, the beginning of

the campaign was at once looked on as a triumphal procession--that is no

more than patriotic duty. “À Berlin, à Berlin,” was shouted through the

streets and from the outside of the omnibusses--the Marseillaise at

every street corner, “Le jour de gloire est arrivé”. At every theatrical

representation the first actress or singer, at the opera it was Marie

Sass, had to come before the curtain in a Jeanne d’Arc costume, waving a

flag, and sing this battle song, which was received by the audience

standing, and in which they often joined. We also were among the

spectators one evening, Frederick and I, and we also had to rise from

our seats. I say “had to,” not from any external pressure, for we could

of course have withdrawn into the back of the box, but “had to,” because

we were _electrified_.

 

“Look, Martha,” Frederick explained to me, “a spark like that which runs

from one man to another and makes this whole mass rise to one united and

excited heart-beat, that is _love_.”

 

“What do you mean? It is surely a song of hatred:--

 

That their unholy blood

May sink into our furrows.”

 

“That is no matter, united hatred also is one form of love. Wherever two

or more unite in one common feeling, they love each other. Let but a

higher conception than that of the nation, _i.e._, of mankind and of

humanity, once be seized as the general idea, and then----”

 

“Ah,” I sighed, “when will that be?”

 

“When? that is a very relative term. In regard to the duration of our

life, never; in regard to that of our race, to-morrow.”

 

* * * * *

 

When war has broken out all the subjects of neutral states divide

themselves into two camps, one takes the side of the one, the other of

the opposite party; it is like a great fluctuating wager, in which every

one has a share.

 

We too--Frederick and I--with which side should we sympathise, which

wish to conquer? As Austrians we should have been fully justified,

“patriotically,” in wishing to see our victor in the former war

vanquished in this one. Besides, it is again natural that one should

give the greater sympathy to those in whose midst one is living, and

with whose feelings one is involuntarily infected; and we were then

surrounded by the French. Still, Frederick was of Prussian descent, and

were we not more allied with the Germans, whose speech even was my own,

than with their adversaries? Besides, had not the declaration of war

proceeded from the French, on such trifling grounds--nay, not grounds,

but pretexts? And must we not conclude from that that the Prussian cause

was the more just one, and that they were going into battle only as

defenders, and in obedience to compulsion? King William had spoken with

much justice in his speech from the throne on July 19:--

 

The German and the French nations, both enjoying equally the

blessings of Christian training and increasing prosperity, have

been called to a more holy strife than the bloody one of arms. The

rulers of France, however, have contrived to make profit for their

own personal interests and passions out of the justifiable but

irritable self-consciousness of our great neighbour by means of

deliberate deception.

 

The Emperor Napoleon, on his side, published the following

proclamation:--

 

In view of the presumptuous pretensions of Prussia, we were obliged

to make protests. These were treated with scorn. Transactions[9]

followed which showed their contempt for us. Our country has been

deeply irritated at this, and at present the cry for war resounds

from one end of France to the other. There remains nothing possible

for us except to trust our fate to the arbitrament of arms. We are

not making war on Germany, whose independence we respect. It is the

object of our best wishes that the people composing the great

German nationality should dispose freely of their own fate. As far

as concerns ourselves, we desire to set up a state of things which

will guarantee our security and make our future safe. We wish to

obtain a lasting peace, founded on the true interests of the

peoples. We wish for the termination of this miserable situation,

in which all the nations are expending their resources in arming on

all sides against each other.

 

What a lesson! what a mighty lesson speaks from this writing, when

compared with the events which ensued upon it! This campaign, then, was

undertaken by France in order to attain security--to attain lasting

peace? And what came of it? _L’annèe terrible_ and lasting

enmity--enmity which still prevails. No; as with coal you cannot

white-wash, as with assafœtida you cannot diffuse a sweet perfume, so

neither with war can you make peace secure. This “miserable situation,”

to which Napoleon alludes, how much has it not changed for the worse

since then! The emperor was in earnest, thoroughly in earnest about the

scheme for setting on foot a European disarmament. I have it quite

certainly from his nearest relations; but the war party put pressure on

him--coerced him--and he yielded. And yet he could not refrain, even in

the war proclamation, from harping on his favourite idea. Its carrying

out was only to be deferred. “After the campaign”--“after the victory,”

said he, to console himself. It turned out otherwise.

 

So, on which side were our sympathies? If one has got to the point of

detesting all war in and for itself, as was the case with Frederick and

me, the genuine, pure, “passionate attachment” to either side can exist

no more. One’s only feeling is “Oh that it had never begun--this

campaign! Oh that it were only already over!”

 

I did not think that the existing war would last long, or have important

consequences. Two or three battles won here and there, and then there

would be parleys for certain, and the thing would be brought to an end.

What were they really fighting for? Literally for nothing. The whole

thing was more of an armed promenade, undertaken by the French from love

of knightly adventure, by the Germans from brave feelings of defensive

duty. A few sabre-cuts would be exchanged, and the adversaries would

shake hands again. Fool that I was! As if the consequences of a war

remained in any proportion to the causes which produced it. It is its

_course_ which determines its consequences.

 

We should have been glad to leave Paris, for all the enthusiasm which

the whole population displayed produced the most painful effect on us.

But the way eastward was barred for the present, and the business of

our house-building detained us. In short, we stayed. We had hardly any

society connections left. Everybody that could anyhow do so had fled

from Paris; and even of those who remained, no one under present

circumstances even thought of issuing invitations. A few, however, of

our acquaintances among the literary circles, who were still in the

city, we did frequently visit. Just at this phase of the commencing war,

it interested Frederick to make himself acquainted with the judgments

and views then entertained by the master spirits of the time. There was

an author, then quite young, who later on attained much fame, Guy de

Maupassant, some of whose utterances, which penetrated into my soul, I

entered in the red volumes:--

 

War--if I only think of the word a horror comes over me, as if

people were talking to me about witches, about the inquisition,

about some faraway, overmastering, horrible, unnatural thing.

War--to fight each other, strangle, cut each other to pieces! And

we have amongst us at this day, in our times, with our culture,

with such an extension of science, with so high a grade of

development as we believe ourselves to have attained--we have

schools, where people are taught to kill, to kill at a good

distance, and a good round number at a time. What is wonderful is

that the people do not rise up against it, that the whole of

society does not revolt at the bare word--war!

 

Every man who governs is just as much bound to avoid war as a

ship’s captain is bound to avoid shipwreck. If a captain has lost a

ship he is brought before a court and tried, so that it may be

known whether he has been guilty of negligence. Why should not a

Government be put on its trial whenever a war has been declared? If

the people understood it, if they refused to allow themselves to be

killed without cause, there would be an end of war.

 

I had also an opportunity of reading a letter, wr